


and tomorrow, we kiss

by mitsukyu



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 15:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsukyu/pseuds/mitsukyu
Summary: "What are you talking about? We're just friends," Seungyoon protests around a mouthful of hamburger.





	and tomorrow, we kiss

**Author's Note:**

> i started this ages ago for the songkang 100 minutes challenge's 'just friends' prompt and then fought with it Forever. that's why it takes place in LA.
> 
> includes a bit of non-linear story telling

Seungyoon makes a sound that might have been a laugh. 

"What are you talking about? We're just friends," he protests around a mouthful of hamburger. Seunghoon winces and reaches over to wipe a blob of sauce off Seungyoon's cheek. 

"Just so you know, maknae privileges don't include eating like a five year old," he says. He chews thoughtfully on his own hamburger for a while. "Anyway, the two of us are just friends. Like, we don't make googly eyes at each other. Or put our hands down each other's pants, unless absolutely necessary. But you and Mino—" 

"Mino and I are not putting our hands down each other's anything," Seungyoon protests and promptly chokes on his hamburger. Seunghoon rolls his eyes and leans across to pound him on the back. He remains unimpressed. 

"But you want to and that's the whole problem." 

"Who says I want to?" Seungyoon asks as soon as he can manage more than a dying wheeze. He looks vaguely hunted, eyes wild and voice cracking and Seunghoon starts to wonder if the direct approach is too much, after all. 

But _honestly_. The pair of them has gone from nervous smiles and starry eyes to arts and crafts and couple clothing all in one fell swoop and he's sure that's at least, like, second and third base. 

Something has to be done. 

 

"This is an intervention," Jinwoo says solemnly, fingers knotted together, giving Mino big serious eyes from across the table. Mino slows his chewing and looks down at the American-sized plate of spaghetti in front of him. It's still very nearly full. It's a delicious plate of spaghetti. He deserves this plate of spaghetti. If he has to dance one more day without this spaghetti to sustain him, he's going to _die_. 

"Just let me finish this plate, hyung," he whines. Jinwoo considers it, head cocked to one side. Mino lets his pout intensify just slightly. 

"Yeah, alright." 

Mino thinks that's the end of it, except maybe the occasional pointed glance at dinner. But when they've finished their lunch, Jinwoo takes a deep breath and goes into serious mode again, eyes liquid and lips pressed thin. He clears his throat. 

"So, as I was saying, this is an intervention." 

Mino eyes him doubtfully. "I already finished the food, hyung. Nothing much I can do about it now." 

Jinwoo is briefly surprised out of his composure. He blinks. Opens his mouth and closes it again. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Well, you said—"

"This isn't about food!" He leans over to hit Mino's arm. "This is about you wanting in Seungyoon's pants!"

Mino blinks and rubs his arm. 

"Oh. No, we each made a pair, hyung," he explains. He cocks his head to the side. "Honestly, I think mine are cooler. Don't tell Seungyoon I said that, though." 

Jinwoo takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly. Then he looks around the restaurant and leans in, "I mean," he whispers harshly, "this is about you wanting to fuck Seungyoon." 

Mino stops with his glass of beer halfway to his mouth. He puts it back down carefully. 

"I want to what now?" 

 

Mino slams open the door of their hotel room with enough force that it bounces back off the wall. 

Seungyoon barely looks up from his phone. "Sup." 

"Apparently," Mino announces dramatically, waiting until he has Seungyoon's undivided attention before dropping the bomb, "I really want to fuck you." 

Seungyoon raises an eyebrow and returns his attention to his phone. "Really?" he asks. "I was told I wanted to fuck you." 

Mino pauses and purses his lips. "Huh. Figures Seunghoon-hyung was behind this somehow. Fine. How do we resolve this?" 

"Resolve what?" 

"The logistics," Mino says. "Obviously. Who gets to fuck who." 

Seungyoon rolls his eyes. "Whom," he says, before letting himself fall back against the pillows, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. He squeezes his eyes shut and arches his neck back dramatically. "Fine. Take me." 

Well then.

Mino waits. He knows Seungyoon. He doesn't have to wait long, Seungyoon manages to keep a straight face for two more seconds before he bursts into laughter. Mino snorts. Manages a half shrug. 

"Honestly, I don't know what the fuck is up with them," he says. He flings himself onto the bed next to Seungyoon, bouncing slightly. Seungyoon's shoulder is warm pressed against his. 

"Apparently me borrowing your markers means I want your dick," Seungyoon says, waggling his eyebrows. 

"Thanks," Mino says solemnly. "I'm never looking at my markers the same way again." 

"You're welcome," Seungyoon says with a pleased little hum. He falls silent and for the briefest of moments Mino feels confident in himself that he can let this one go, but—

"Just so you know," he says. It's a losing battle. "My dick is significantly bigger tha—" 

"I _know_ ," Seungyoon interrupts. "I've seen it." 

"Okay, okay," Mino says defensively. "Just as long as we're clear on that." 

They lapse into silence. Mino digs out his phone but the internet is disappointingly boring and all his friends are in the wrong timezone. He's about to brag to Seungyoon about the amazing pasta place when Seungyoon turns into him, flopping onto his side and propping himself up on one arm. He says, "I mean, we're not weird, right?" 

Mino frowns. "Huh? What makes you think we're weird?" 

Seungyoon gives him a look. "Well, I don't know. Our friends being convinced we want to bang each other, for one." 

"Yeah, well—"

"I do, you know, I like..." he trails off and flops back down on his back. "I don't know." 

"Like what?" 

Seungyoon shrugs. "Nothing, forget it. It's dumb," he promises. Smiles. 

"You want to fuck," Mino says flatly, raising an eyebrow. Seungyoon laughs, embarrassment red on his cheeks, and elbows him. 

"No. No, of course not," he protests. 

"Oh." 

"I do like our couple jeans," Seungyoon says. He takes his eyes off the ceiling to grin at Mino. 

Mino grins backs. He shifts closer and slides an arm under Seungyoon's shoulders in an awkward half hug. "We're not weird." He shrugs easily. "We're just... comfortable with each other, and shit. And they have unresolved issues. Anyway, they clearly can't appreciate art when it's staring them in the face. Or the legs. Whatever." 

"Clearly," Seungyoon agrees, laughing into Mino's shoulder. 

Yeah, Mino tells himself. Clearly. 

 

For a second, Mino's face had gone carefully blank. Then he frowns. 

"What the hell makes you think that?" he asks, folding his arms protectively across his chest. Jinwoo rolls his eyes and sags back into his chair. 

"Give me some credit. I mean, honestly? The sexual tension between you two can be cut with a spoon." 

Mino considers this. "... Knife?" he suggests.

"Whatever."

"You're imagining things, hyung," Mino claims, grimacing. "You've been reading too many of Seunghoon-hyung's weird porn manga." 

Jinwoo huffs. "Listen, I just want you two to be happy. So" — he waves his arms — "go and be happy, please. Go on."

 

"I mean, it's not a big deal or anything," Seungyoon tells the ceiling, chewing his bottom lip in annoyance. Mino rolls onto his stomach and looks up from his phone. 

"What isn't?" 

"Nothing," Seungyoon says. "I was just thinking." 

"Are you still stressing out about fucking up that dance move? Because, really, you should chill. It worked our fine in the end." 

Seungyoon glances at him, briefly. "I wasn't." 

"Oh." Mino pauses. "Well, good." 

"I am now, though." 

Mino groans into his pillow. "Of fucking course you are." 

"That dancer, she was really cool and she's going to laugh at me forever." 

"She will not." 

"Yes she will," Seungyoon maintains stubbornly and with just the tiniest hint of relief. He has to fight to keep it from curling up the corners of his mouth. He really prefers to be worrying about this than...

"Seungyoon, I swear to fucking god," Mino starts. Arguing, Seungyoon thinks with some satisfaction. Even better. 

 

It's not a big deal or anything, Mino tells himself. 

_I know. I've seen it._

It's true, Mino allows. They've showered together before. It's a thing people do. It's not like you — you don't go out of your way to _not_ look. That'd be weird, man. You just sort of can't help noticing, is all. But. 

_I know. I've seen it._

Fuck thinking rationally, that sounds like Seungyoon has paid enough attention to form an _opinion_. Like maybe Seungyoon has thought about Mino's dick before. Privately. And there's a thought. A whole thought and a half. It spreads like fire through Mino's body, heating up his skin from the inside. 

Right now in this American hotel he has the bathroom all to himself, so he steps under the hot shower and wraps a hand around his dick and strokes himself to hardness thinking of Seungyoon (maybe on his knees — wow, yeah, that's a thing, okay) telling him exactly what he thinks about Mino's dick. And this is Seungyoon, his imagination whispers, so it would be wildly enthusiastic high praise. Yeah. 

He thinks about what Seungyoon's mouth would feel like. His lips soft and red and his mouth hot and — He tightens his grip. 

He's close now. Another time Seungyoon would let him fuck him, maybe, up against the shower wall. Or writhing underneath him in bed. Thighs in his hands, spread wide. Head thrown back. He thinks of kissing him, wet and open mouthed, mouthing his way along the line of his throat while pushing into him and— 

He shudders. Spills in his hand. 

He still thinks of Seungyoon, pressed up against him. Breathing hard, laughter from the exhilaration of it all muffled in his shoulder. 

It's a nice thought. He leans his forehead against the shower wall. Breathes. Lets the water wash it all away. 

 

"Anyway," Mino says, huffing impatiently, "it's not like Seungyoon's madly in love with me or anything." 

He plays idly with his fork while he waits for Jinwoo to stop laughing. 

"Not more in love with me than he is with everyone else, anyway," he continues coolly when Jinwoo is done. Jinwoo takes a sip of wine, before putting his glass back down with a clink and fixing Mino with a look. 

"Song Mino, are you fucking kidding me right now?" 

 

"Here, let me take another one of you," Seungyoon tells Mino. He takes his phone from him, camera still turned on. 

"You've already taken like forty pictures of Mino. He isn't going anywhere, Seungyoon, we all promise, okay?" Seunghoon whined. "Can we move on now, please?" 

"We don't have much time left in LA," Seungyoon says stubbornly. He wishes Seunghoon and Jinwoo had never brought up their crazy sex ideas. It's making him feel self conscious about every stupid little thing now. 

LA is so cool; the whole place looks vibrant and colorful and poured full of summer. Kind of like Mino. It's the perfect city for Mino, he thinks. Mino looks so cool and beautiful and Seungyoon just wants to take endless pictures of him here in fucking peace, like any rational human being would, thank you very much. 

"It's not like you haven't taken two dozen pictures of me, hyung," he adds sulkily. "And I've taken plenty of you too, I don't know why you're complaining." 

He takes pictures of _everyone_ and as long as no one knows his heart only skips a beat with every click when it's Mino, it's fine. Mino is just...

Seunghoon just shrugs. "I'm hungry." 

"Look, I can't hold this pose much longer," Mino calls out. 

"You're just standing there!" Seungyoon shouts back. 

"Standing still. Bored now." 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it." He takes his picture and maybe thirty more blurry ones, because Mino can't be persuased to stand still anymore until they sit down for lunch.

Jinwoo leans into Seungyoon, half across the table, while they wait for their food. 

"So on a scale from one to ten, how in love are you?" he asks, chin resting in his hands. Seungyoon manages not to choke on his breadroll and pushes at Jinwoo's shin with his sneaker in favor of actually kicking him. 

There's a lull in Mino and Seunghoon's animated conversation about Overwatch, a sudden suction of ears, so he turns to Mino and asks as brightly as he can, "How in love are we, would you say?" 

"Oh, at least a twelve," Mino jokes. His grin is sharp, an onstage grin. Seungyoon laughs louder than he should. 

"Well, there you go then. We should go to Vegas and elope." 

"Sure thing, babe, let's go." Mino's smile is crooked and strange. He slides his sunglasses on and their food arrives. 

 

"He's _pining_ ," Jinwoo claims, eyes wide, a little incredulous that Mino hasn't clued it on this. 

"He's not pining." 

"It's disgusting to watch, honestly," says Kim Jinwoo, number one romance enthusiast. 

"Don't be ridiculous," Mino says, but he's starting to look uncertain. "You're just making that up." 

"Would I do that?" Jinwoo asks, making a great show of looking affronted. 

"You totally would, hyung," Mino said glumly. "You watch a lot of, like, romance dramas and stuff. Real life isn't neat like that." 

"His eyes go all starry when he looks at you," Jinwoo says. He looks slightly starry eyed himself. Mino makes a face. 

"Snap out of it, hyung." 

"He has this smile he only smiles when he looks at you," Jinwoo adds wistfully. 

"Don't be ridiculous." 

"He's more excited about your birthday than his own." 

"He's always two hundred percent excited about everything, how can you even tell the difference," Mino snaps. 

"He's started to copy your godawful fashion choices." 

Mino gasps, finally looking up from folding and refolding his napkin. "You take that back." 

"Okay, okay." Jinwoo laughs. "I'm kidding! But my point still stands, your closets are becoming indistinguishable. He's wowed by everything you do." 

"That's just Seungyoon being Seungyoon," Mino says awkwardly, turning his glass around in his hands, condensation cold on his fingers. 

"Yeah," Jinwoo says. "Yeah, exactly." 

 

So he has a bit of a crush, Seungyoon admits in the privacy of his own brain. So what? It doesn't have to mean anything. It's Song Mino; probably everyone has a bit of a crush on him. No big deal. 

That's what he's been telling himself, anyway. 

He hasn't really let himself think about it before —it? what it? the way Mino makes him feel warm inside, his heart beating in his throat, wishing him forever _closer_. it's nothing, barely even an it. is it? — but now he started he's opened the floodgates and he can't stop thinking. About it. About everything. 

He thinks about Mino's face and how it's perfect. The slope of his nose and his cheekbones. His eyes when he smiles. He wants to reach out and ghost his fingers over his face, until Mino's eyes close, eyelids fluttering, leaning his cheek into Seungyoon's hand. He thinks about how it makes him achingly happy when Mino laughs. It feels like thirst and homesickness and both and neither. 

He thinks about kissing Mino. He can just about imagine the sounds Mino would make. A half moan stuck in his throat. He presses his fingers to his lips and imagines what Mino's mouth would feel like against his own. What it would taste like. He shifts uncomfortably. 

He thinks about Mino's voice, how it goes warm and soft and sends shivers through him in the dark loneliness of a recording studio. 

He thinks about — 

He waits until he's in bed at night, so he can properly switch off and focus on the spectres of his fantasies, although they haunt him all through the day. For once, he lets himself think about sex. He thinks of Mino's body (and shit, he can never listen to that damn song again), of his skin, tan and glowing and so perfectly soft. (He thinks about Mino's dick, the curve, the thickness, how it would feel hard and hot in his hand. How it would feel against him. How Mino would feel inside of him, how he would feel inside of Mino. Sweaty bodies sticking together. Wet kisses. An overload. So close.) 

He thinks about lying in bed together and being able to reach out and touch and taste. Thinks about Mino smiling at him, eyes curving up, and reaching out and holding him. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and balls his fists because that, somehow, is the realest thought of all. He can almost feel it, curled in Mino's embrace, and Mino in his, for as long — as long as they want, as long as forever. 

Mostly, he thinks about Mino being Mino. They've grown towards each other, entangling like vines and now he can no longer imagine untangling himself and staying whole. 

He thinks about how he never wants to lose him, how he never wants to be without that, again. 

He thinks about Mino's strange, crooked smile and doesn't know how long he can keep himself from saying something, everything. 

 

Seungyoon considers writing a song, because that's what he _does_ when feelings crash over him like waves. It's built in by now. But does he really hate himself that much? 

He does, of course. He writes the song and folds the paper over and over in a tiny fat square and hides it in the back of a notebook, hopefully forever. 

Better, he tells himself while his heart tries to thud its way out of his chest, just to say it. Seunghoon-hyung and Jinwoo-hyung's running joke isn't helping with his piece of mind, but maybe their spiel will back him up if he needs to play it off as a joke. Another strange, crooked smile, too loud laughter. 

He still doesn't know how to handle this. Imagines, now, Mino's face twisted with anger and disgust. He asks for advice in a moment of weakness. 

"You've ruined me, hyung. Congratulations," he complains, flopping down onto the couch next to Seunghoon. His bottom lip sticks out in a pout. "Now what?" 

"Don't worry, I got you," Seunghoon says, smiling gently and patting his knee. A paragon of helpful caring. "They sell condoms at the shop on the corner. I checked." 

Seungyoon splutters. "I can't believe you! Hyung," he whines, "why are you doing this to me?" 

"Maknae privileges," Seunghoon says cheerfully. "You're entitled to good advice from your hyung. Safe sex is important, Seungyoon. Anyway, it's not like people will recognize you here. You'll be fine." 

Seungyoon lets his head fall back against the back of the couch with a groan. "Maknae privileges suck." 

 

So he's in this alone. Except for Mino, that is, but he's not sure yet whether they're on the same side or not. Team-Seungyoon-and-Mino or Seungyoon-versus-Mino. Time to find out. 

"So, apparently," Seungyoon starts. He sits on the edge of Mino's bed, fingers drumming on the mattress. He trails off. 

"Yeah?" Mino asks, putting his book down. He looks up at Seungyoon with an uncomfortable intensity and Seungyoon is already regretting this. _Never mind_ , he really wants to say, for the hundredth, two hundredth time. 

"Apparently, I want to" — he licks his lips nervously — "kiss you," he decides on. He says it lightly, though he can't quite meet Mino's eyes. 

"Is that right?" Mino sits up. 

_Ha! No. I'm kidding it's all... It's all... eloping to Vegas and— ha. Ha._ "Yes." 

Mino nods thoughtfully. Sits next to him, leaning back on his hands. "Good. I want to kiss you too." 

Seungyoon finally looks at him, eyes flickering over briefly and then away again. He swallows thickly. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. So I think we can work something out." 

"That's. That's good." Seungyoon opens his mouth again and—

 

Mino thinks, he's going to keep talking. He's actually going to keep talking. He can barely string three coherent words together but this is _Seungyoon_ and he's actually going to keep talking, isn't he? He totally is. 

Still, he wants to make sure. 

"Seungyoon," he interrupts. Seungyoon turns to look at him, wide-eyed. 

"Yes?" 

"You should probably kiss me now. If you want." 

"Yes. Okay," Seungyoon says. "Yes." 

He leans into Mino, eyes too bright and mouth twitching like he's about to burst into embarrassed laughter and man, they suck at this, Mino thinks. They haven't even started yet and they already suck at this. Team Awkward, they should get an award. 

But Seungyoon doesn't laugh. He closes the final inch, half inch, of distance between them and presses his mouth against Mino's. His lips are soft and taste like cherry chapstick and despite his earlier hesitation he kisses eagerly and, fuck, Mino is so hungry for him. His arms around Seungyoon's waist pulling him in tight and he can feel Seungyoon's fingers digging into his arms. And _now_ they're laughing, inbetween sloppy kisses, because this is new and exciting and perfect, perfect. 

 

There are whispered conversations as they approach the breakfast table, along the lines of _You owe me fifty thousand won. You know what, make it fifty dollars, as long as we're here. I'm gonna treat myself._

"Did you guys seriously bet on whether we'd get together?" Mino asks, negotiating his plate of scrambled eggs and mug of coffee onto the table. Seunghoon and Jinwoo share a look. 

"Nah, that one was a foregone conclusion," Seunghoon says finally. "Sorry. We were only taking bets on when it would happen." 

"Freaks," Mino says calmly and starts buttering his toast. 

"Taking bets?" Seungyoon asks sharply, just arrived. They ignore him. 

"And maybe a side bet on who'd crack first," Jinwoo adds. He turns to Seunghoon. "It was Mino, for sure. Pay up." 

"Bullshit," Seunghoon declares. "I sent Seungyoon on a condom trip. Right?" he adds, turning to Mino. 

"We cracked at the same time," Seungyoon decides before Mino can answer. He sits down with them and holds out his hand. "Time to pay up, hyung." 

"You weren't even playing!" Seunghoon protests. 

"If you're betting on our sex life, least you can do is pay for dinner," Mino says, folding his arms. Team— something or other, he has to think of a cool name later. A united front, anyway, especially in the face of fifty bucks. Seungyoon wiggles his fingers. 

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, alright." Seunghoon sighs in defeat and hands over five ten dollar bills. Jinwoo smiles sunnily at both Mino and Seungyoon. 

"But just think how nice it is that you _have_ a sex life now for people to bet on. You have us to thank for that. It would have taken you about ten more years on your own. If not more. Everyone would have suffered."

"Yeah, yeah," Mino says, grimacing. "We'll name our children after you guys, hyung." 

"Children?" Seungyoon asks, piece of toast halfway to his mouth. 

"Yeah, I mean, it's pretty far in the future but that's the next step, right? We move out, get our own place, adopt—"

"Jesus."

"—a puppy for you and another cat, at least, to keep Johnny company of course, but also you can never have to many cats, really." 

"Yeah. That." Seungyoon blinks. "That sounds like a plan." 

"And you'll leave us all on our own? Rey and Bei will miss you." Jinwoo says with an exaggerated pout followed by a wink. 

Seungyoon takes a careful sip of water and folds his napkin on the side of his plate. "It'll be good for you," he says, "having the place to yourself. After all," — and he should get an award for the straightfaced solemnity, the Oscar winner of his heart, Mino thinks — "then you and Seunghoon-hyung can have sex as often and as loud as you want." 

Jinwoo chokes on his drink. 

"What are you talking about?" Seunghoon asks sharply. "We're not having sex. We're just friends." 

Seungyoon beams at them widely, benevolently, and spreads the dollar bills he just took from Seunghoon out on the table before him, fanned out like they're playing cards and he has all the aces. 

"Wanna bet fifty dollars?"


End file.
